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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24398632">Skeletons, Secrets, and Suicide</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justanothertrashaccount/pseuds/Justanothertrashaccount'>Justanothertrashaccount</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Law &amp; Order: SVU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Flashbacks, Guilt, Implied Relationships, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Suicide Attempt, Survivor Guilt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:55:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,278</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24398632</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justanothertrashaccount/pseuds/Justanothertrashaccount</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been 2 years since the events within Beast's Obsession have transpired, and Amelia Cole has had enough of the flashbacks and nightmares. The burden of her secret, only shared with Lieutenant Benson, is too much to bare as she makes her final apology to the woman who saved her. Can Olivia talk her down from committing suicide in the middle of the precinct? Or will she be William Lewis' last victim? </p><p>Season 17</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Olivia Benson/Amanda Rollins, Olivia Benson/Ed Tucker, Olivia Benson/William Lewis, Rafael Barba/Olivia Benson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey y'all. Sorry I haven't updated my previous work (Bound at the Heart and the Wrists). I just want to make it perfect, esp. with the return of Elliot, so it'll take a little longer than originally anticipated. I just had this idea for this twoshot for a while and I absolutely had to write it before I forgot it.<br/>Anyways,<br/>Have a nice day (or night as you're probably reading this at 2AM) and please comment your reviews! They are very appreciated!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Sorry if it isn't top quality, I only had about an hour. Next chapter is the Tucker/Benson and Barba/Benson releationships and how the squad handles the reveals. Enjoy!</strong>
</p><p>Amelia Cole has had enough with the pain and the guilt. She just can't do this anymore. The flashbacks are constant, sleep is elusive, and once caught it never fails to transport her back to that god-forsaken granary via bone-chilling nightmares. It's all too much for a 14 year old who's life previously consisted of -wait what was it? ah yes- rainbows and lip gloss. Now life, if it could even be called that, barely consists of anything, or at least nothing of noticeable importance.</p><p>Always awake but never lucid, always alive but never living. </p><p>The elevator music is purely static, tax dollars obviously have been put to better use, and it calmingly compliments the gray-scale nature of her current state in some sort of twisted metaphor. The soft <em>ding</em> breaks the contemplative spell and the destination has been reached. Amelia steps out of the elevator, and walks through the hall to reach the squad room, only knowing the exact path from the last time she was here.</p><p>That may have been a little over two years ago, but felt like a lifetime ago and yesterday simultaneously. At the time, she made her statement in the interview room, knowing that Detective Benson could be behind the glass. Knowing the truth, but also understanding why she wouldn't reveal it, was a thin line to walk. Almost as if she were walking a tight rope over Niagara falls, the invisible line splitting her whole world into the "unaltered" and "altered" versions of the story, and was careful not to fall into the metaphorical rapids below. </p><p>But that didn't matter now. None of it did. </p><p>Amelia approached one of the two men she did not recognize, as he occupied the desk formerly belonging to her rescuer, while the other members of the squad were awfully familiar. </p><p>"Can I speak to Detective Benson?"</p><p>Carisi did not recognize the girl from any case worked recently, and reached over the desk to tap the back of Amanda's NYPD-issued computer monitor. The attempt to capture the blonde's attention was not in vain, and all it took was a glance upwards until a name could be put to the face.  </p><p>"Amelia?"</p><p>Perhaps she could have masked the suprise a bit better, but the impression made was surely the last thing that came to mind when the young girl stood in front of her. Memories of the granary infiltrated the detective's train of thought almost immediately. </p><p>
  <em>Amelia was tied by the wrists as Amanda struggled to free her of the restraints. Only a momentary look towards Olivia was managed before focus was restored on her original task. It was only a momentary look, a glance at best, but the unfastend belt-buckle did not go unnoticed. Neither did Amelia's scared whimpering, for that matter. </em>
</p><p>The thought was struck out of mind forcefully, physically accompanied by a small but visible shake of the head. </p><p>Amelia felt the sickeningly familiar surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins, invading the former depression and bringing out the girl's risk-taking side. </p><p>
  <em>Is this what it's like to be alive?</em>
</p><p>Like most things in life, Amelia internally decided the answer doesn't matter. Why ask questions when you aren't going to be around for the answers? </p><p>"Please," she began, before needing to desperately collect oxygen (perhaps ironic given the ultimate goal of this encounter) before continuing, "I need to speak with Detective Benson"</p><p>"The Lieutenant is probably in her office."</p><p>Amanda and Carisi both contemplated the need for such urgency, the differing levels of knowledge regarding the Lewis situation ultimately resulting in equal confusion for different reasons.</p><p>Upon hearing the word Lieutenant, and abnormally not busy as of this moment, Olivia opened the door of her office and quietly stepped out. Perhaps it would have been better if she just turned back, and retreated to the relative privacy of said office. Too late now.</p><p>The sight standing only a few yards away opened floodgates of trying memories and one mild flashback.</p><p>
  <em>Olivia bent over slightly to match her eyeline with the girl's, but not too much as to remeber the table she was chained to only hours ago. "Please", Liv asked, edging the blurry line between requesting and begging. The girl hesitantly nooded "yes", if only in an attempt to partially pay back an unpayable debt. The relief washed over in waves, heartbeat slowing, and mind a little more at ease. The secret was safe. </em>
</p><p>Snapping out of the daze, Liv felt a breif twang of fear followed by guilt. But the question remained. What had she told them? Would Amelia open the metaphorical closet door and reveal what lies inside? We may all have skeletons in our past, but only some are truly haunted. </p><p>Sensing the tension and the abnormal amount of focus on one subject, or one person, Fin walked over and placed his hands on the back of Amanda's notoriously uncomfortable chair. </p><p>Amelia squared and now faced the Lieutenant dead on, while retreating horizontally towards the center of the isle.</p><p>"I... I am so sorry", was whispered yet audible in the awkward silence that ensued. </p><p>The black coat was brushed aside in one instant, the gun withdrawed in two. Before any reaction could be made by the alarmed witnesses, the cold barrel met her own temple. </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>Time stood still. The silence was deafening, only broken by the hammer of the pistol being brought back, further emphasizing the gun's lethal power. </p><p>Carisi rose and retreated slowly to join his colleagues, knowing that approaching the girl could unlock a dangerous stress level and could possibly end in disaster. </p><p>Only 3 seconds passed, 3 mind numbing and torturous moments of silence, before Olivia took a couple steps towards Amelia. All other movement in the precinct stopped, people remaining sedentary as the situation became clear. </p><p>Sensing the muscles in Amelia's arm begining to flex with newfound tension, Olivia ceased her movement and instead reached out a careful hand, not to grasp but to symbolically show her comforting presence. Unfortunately, they were still seperated by a few feet, too many to lunge through without testing the girl's trigger squeeze.</p><p>"Everybody out!", Amelia yelled. However, upon a quick afterthought, "Except, them. And Olivia". </p><p>The "them" referred to was clarified by a movement of her free hand, identifying the trio residing near Rollin's desk. </p><p>Olivia didn't hesitate in response, "You heard her. Everybody out." </p><p>The fight to maintain an even voice was ongoing and fierce, although a victory not foreseeable with all the intense and buried emotions at play. The surrounding and relatively uninvolved unis, janitors, and staff that happened to be there filtered out hesitantly through a side door, most looking back towards the scene at least once out of human curiosity. </p><p>Following the completion of the exit procession, Amelia turned back to completely face Olivia again. </p><p>"You don't have to do this, Amelia" </p><p>Her breif HNT training was a reminder to remain calm and frequently use the perpetrator's name. But, then again, she didn't need the training to know that and this girl not another common criminal either. </p><p>"No, Olivia. I just wanted to see you one last time. To say I'm sorry" </p><p>Mothering voice was enabled once more as a futile attempt of assurance was made. </p><p>"Please, Amelia"</p><p>"It was all my fault", she began, interrupted by an onslaught of silver tears and the burning tightness of the throat one experiences during a riveting cry, "I never should have let him"</p><p>"You didn't <em>let </em>him, Amelia. You didn't let him do anything."</p><p>"No. No! It was my fault you were there! What he did is on me!" </p><p><em>"I</em> slipped my protective detail. <em>I </em>chose to go there without backup. <em>Nothing </em>that happened in that granary is on you. <em>Nothing"</em></p><p>Amanda and Fin, who both arrived at the post-shooting scene, only dove further into the bottomless trench of wonder. She surely couldn't be regretting the death of Lewis, right? Carisi, however, only knew a few fragments of Olivia's trauma, and thus was left to draw the most basic conclusions. His knowledge of the events was based on hushed whispers and warnings of banned phrases and items, lest a flashback be triggered. Even a song was mentioned. The introduction of the unwritten list was a secret and unspoken part of new-guy initiation. </p><p>"You hate me becuase I chose. He asked me to pick. And I chose you. I chose!" </p><p>"You were twelve, sweetie. Twelve years old. What were you going to do exactly?", Olivia visibly shook from a quick flashback before swallowing and redirecting, "I would have made the exact same choice. And I could <em>never </em>hate you."</p><p>"Yes. You do."</p><p>"Would I make that sacrifice for someone I hate?" </p><p>Minds raced across the room, mainly from Olivia's right, where each detective yearned, yet simultaneously feared, to know what sacrifice was referred to. A silent prayer was sent, begging that it wasn't what they thought, an effort underminded by the pits formed in their stomach. </p><p>Understanding that this particular angle of argument was not going to be resolved in her favor, Amelia clenched the weapon tighter until white appeared on all 5 knuckles. </p><p>"What about them?", she asked, gesturing towards the trio on her left. Turning, Amelia faced the small group. </p><p>"Do you hate me?"</p><p>Silence. Probably from the suprise of even being addressed in the first place. </p><p>"DO YOU HATE ME?"</p><p>"Amelia, they don't know. I never told them anything more than what they needed to know."</p><p>"They don't?"</p><p>"Remember what I said? About what we know? That wasn't just for the statement, or our testimony. I never said anything, to anyone. That was just you and me. You and me, Amelia."</p><p>"Yeah well", her voice broke again before resuming in a weeping voice, "last time it was you OR me."</p><p>The understanding was evident on the expressions of the scene's unwilling audience. Conern, fear, regret, guilt. Combined with the FreeSpace and you've got yourself one hell of a fucked up bingo. </p><p>She continued. </p><p>"This secret, your secret, it ate at me for <em>years. </em>I've had so many nightmares. So many flashbacks. You were in the center of all of them."</p><p>"I know, sweetie. It is so hard to live like that. But you didn't let him do that, your choice wasn't even really a choice, was it? So please, don't do this. <em>You </em>have control now, Amelia. Do not allow him to win this."</p><p>"I can barely even look at you!"</p><p>"Please-"</p><p>"You told me to look away! You told me to sing and song and cover my ears and not to open my eyes no matter what I heard. But I couldn't! I had to watch him do that to you! All because I told him to rape you and not me!" </p><p>
  <em>Lewis used the handcuffs and rope to restrain Olivia, who naturally tensed at the touch of his wondering hands. First her breasts, then her belt, and in an instant both parties were exposed. He whispered in her ear, then forcefully and painfully thrust into her entrance.Over and over and over again. The pained groans and soft cries from Olivia made Amelia wince. Until finally the movements became eratic and he released himself inside her. </em>
</p><p>Fin recognized the signs of a flashback, and called her name multiple times before getting anything even resembling a response. </p><p>Silence. Sweet, torturous silence reigned once more. </p><p>Liv's tears began to emerge at last as she came out of her personalized prison, and their paths made silver streaks as three or four escaped, defiant of her usual stoic resolve. </p><p>A glimmer of hope remained in the trio. Perhaps he never did it? Perhaps he never got the chance. Maybe they got there in time. </p><p>"And I forgive you, Amelia, because I would have offered myself to save you again and again. But please, please, don't let that sacrifice be in vain."</p><p>The tension in the room could be cut with a knife, ignited by a spark. He actually did it. That motherfucker got what he wanted and Olivia couldn't even fight, lest the feat became too hard for him and Amelia became the easy target. If he wasn't already dead, Fin would be on route to castrate the man this very moment</p><p>"I don't-"</p><p><em>"I am</em> his last victim. Please let it stay that way."</p><p>"No, Amelia. Don't let him do this. Don't make him the last face you see before you die.". </p><p>Olivia reached out, approached slowly, as she sensed Amelia's muscles relaxing on the weapon. So close to getting the weapon, so close. Amelia flinched but didn't step back, a sign of surrender, an invitation to end this before her urge to end it all would come out on top.</p><p>Olivia took the pistol, albiet desperatly wanting to drop it like one would drop a burning pan, and handed it to someone behind her. Both of them never wanted to see anything resembling that weapon ever again.</p><p>Amelia travelled three feet right into the embrace of Lewis' last victim. Olivia held her close, one hand on her hair and one on her back, as she felt the cool tears marking the light blue blouse. </p><p>
  <strong>Next chapter is going to be the squad's reaction to the news, and we'll see some Tucker/Benson and Barba/Benson scenes as well as a few flashbacks. </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Probably going to be released tomorrow, May 27th 2020. </strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Aftermath: Part 1 (Rollins)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When the squad now has to deal with this newfound information, how will they handle it? Will the guilt eat away at them like it did to Amelia? Only to be made worse when Olivia Benson isn't done with the secrets, either. </p><p>Three Parts:<br/>1. Olivia and Rollins (Bathroom)<br/>2. Olivia and Barba (Office)<br/>3. Olivia and Tucker (Home)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys I'm back! I know there isn't too much following for this work as of now, and thats chill. I get it. But, by any chance, would anyone be interested in a part four with Fin? Maybe he feels betrayed because she shared the information about Harris but not Lewis? How many secrets does she have that are shared with one person, each thinking it's one-of-a-kind? Just a thought. Comment below please, if you want.<br/>Anyways,<br/>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A/N: Next up is Barba/Benson in her office, then Benson/Tucker at home after that (Olivia decides to tell him). Added Rollins on a whim, but I think it works.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Aftermath Part One: Olivia and Rollins - 9:30 AM</strong>
</p><p>Amelia didn't let go of Olivia, holding on for dear life, not unlike the moment 2 years ago where once again one saved the other. At least not until the gathered police officers (including the real HNT) placed her in temporary custody, followed by the promise of a "brief" 72-hour stint in Bellevue. Although the Lieutenant wanted to try and pull rank, perhaps get her in more suitable care, the overwhelming urge to flee the scene won out in the end. </p><p>Olivia's mind was racing as were her feet, yet not a single thought was truly formed or focused on until the relative safety of the women's bathroom was reached. At least here, only one detective could follow, and even then Amanda was one of the few (along with Fin) that truly understood basic concepts of privacy.</p><p>She clutched both sides of the farthest sink, back arched and head down, water running to hide the sounds of any crying. The tears needed to be controlled, and a glance in the mirror might strip her of that authority, so focusing on the water running was the current objective. Focus on the water, not the fact that her most well-kept and delicate secret had just been revealed. Focus on the water, not the flashbacks that are edging closer into fruition. Focus on the water, not the footsteps coming closer. </p><p>Amanda, after a very brief argument about the merits of leaving Olivia alone were denied, was elected to follow her. Well, of course, the only name on the ballot was hers. Perhaps the boys would probably get a free pass just this once, but Amanda really was the only one suitable for the job. After all, the clusterfuck that was the Patton case had some similarities to Olivia's pain as of this moment. </p><p>Sensing the detective's arrival, and wanting to mask the tears in an attempt to return to stoic once more, Olivia pushed off the sink crutch and instead faced the wall opposite the door so Amanda was met with only her back.</p><p>In and out, in and out. That's still how breathing works, right? But the oxygen isn't forthcoming, and breaths became shallower and faster. Neither woman is foreign with the issues a victim might face, the experience yielded from both work and personal matters, but Lieutenant Olivia Benson was never truly classified in the "victim" category. Most likely out of mass denial. Nonetheless, experience with victims gave Amanda the upper hand relative to a civilian off the street, at least in the chance of Olivia actually opening up about the past that was just made the present. </p><p>A gentle and hesitant hand reaches out, careful to only touch her upper body, and elicits a palpable increase in tricep tension. </p><p>"Hey, Liv." </p><p>Internally, both recoiled at the very obvious  use of the "victim won't talk" voice. Hell, Olivia Benson practically trademarked it. </p><p>"Please, Amanda, talk to me like I'm a Lieutenant. I'm not a <em>victim</em>"</p><p>"Okay, Lieu. Okay. Well I've got this problem, and maybe you can help."</p><p>Relief was indescribable, the weight of having to bare with one's thoughts in public could be thoroughly and almost completely avoided via focusing on other people's problems. Perhaps Amanda wouldn't press the issue, and maybe, just maybe, they could all pretend like this never happened. Practice makes perfect, and decades of practice made Olivia as close to masterful in this skill as one could get. </p><p>"Well we've got this vic", Amanda began, refraining from using the full word for reasons she didn't quite know, "and she's not cooperating. Not telling us what's going on, hiding aspects of the trauma, and we're all worried."</p><p>"Alright, I'll take a crack at in a few minutes. What interview room is she in?"</p><p>"Currently? Our vic is crying in the bathroom." </p><p>Although slightly betrayed by the disappointing direction of the conversation, the humor was not lost on her. </p><p>"Very funny."</p><p>"Liv-", Amanda reached out to her right arm again, this time not showing she was here, but rather that she was staying. "We are worried. <em>I</em> am worried. You didn't think you could tell us?"</p><p>"I'm <em>fine.</em>"</p><p>The word slipped out like venom, but that was not the intention. If familiarity breeds contempt, her hatred of the word is long overdue. </p><p>"No. You're not. Currently not even in the vicinity of 'okay'. Can you let me in? Just this once, just for today? For years you've been some sort of Special Victims diety, but a puzzle to people around you. Isn't it too much?"</p><p>Amanda already knew the answer, everyone did. Nothing was too much for Lieutenant Benson. But maybe this would provide a brief window of opportunity, a chance to come clean in the relative sanctity of the women's bathroom. </p><p>"No. It isn't too much. What would be too much is the looks I'm going to get from my own detectives, the stares when you pass by me and think that I won't notice. At least this time it's just you three." </p><p>"Not like last time", she said, in compelte understanding. </p><p>"Not like either time. I came back after the beach house with new scars and new concerns. But at least no one except Barba and the Cap read by statement. Until my impulsive and borderline stupid descion got me kidnapped and suddenly the whole precinct had to read the file for pattern creation."</p><p>"Was that... you know..." </p><p>If the Lieutenant hid events from the second encounter, no doubt she hid some from the first. </p><p>"Mostly", Olivia began, swallowing back tears.</p><p>"Did he...?"</p><hr/><p>
  <em>The iron-framed bed gently rocked in line with the new footsteps entering the room once more. It creaked when he sat on it, and the change in weight distribution was audible as he aligned his pelvis with hers.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Please no" was repeated, albiet somewhat muffled due to the duck-tape. He gently and slowly swayed against her a few times, both parties clothed, until he felt a sufficiently hard against her. Until her pleas became louder and more frantic.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You know what, baby? You're right.", he began, but still continued his motions of unfastening the belt and cutting the fabric of her pants. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"We have get you all warmed up for our party, don't we? Wouldn't want to have you dry for our fun time, darling."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The inplications of his words caused an involuntary scream, but the sound didn't carry far.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His fingers entered her slowly, but without warning he quickly changed pace and used them roughly and harshly. At one point he opened her legs further and used those same hands to keep her in place as he began work with his mouth. She was losing the fight, unwillingly close. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Until the doorbell rang.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Oh look, we've got ourselves an audience! When I get back, you're top of the line up, baby!" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Louisa and the girl talked to him for a few moments, before stepping into the kitchen. He returned, the tightness in his pants denied any delay. Olivia was gratefully suprised that he didn't bring them, but her stomach was in knots.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Batterrrr up!" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He unbuckled his own belt this time, and edged closer to the bed, eyeing the beauty of his prey.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In one hail mary motion, the bar became loose and she swung, the crunch of his jawbone satisfyingly harsh. </em>
</p><hr/><p>"Not quite."</p><p>"Well what the hell does that mean?", Amanda retorted, not angrily, but underlaced with just an ounce of frustration. She knew her boss was beginning to shut down the conversation, but also knew this meant the surface of a delicate topic had just been brushed. </p><p>"It means...", the tears kept coming, uncontrollably now, "he rounded third and almost made it to home plate."</p><p>The euphemism was juvenile yet perfectly understood, crude but got the job done. Speaking of it in medical or even laymans terms gave a sense of finality that she couldn't afford.</p><p>Taking a step back now, subconsciously, Amanda gathered her thoughts back to her high school days. <em>Third base would mean... oral or fingering, right?</em></p><p>Understanding brings along emotions for the ride. A hint of regret, a splash of guilt, a pinch of "oh shit she actually shared something with me". They both mutually and silently moved in for a hug that was more than a hug. More than a reassurance. <em>I've got you. I'm here. And your secret is safe with me. </em></p><p>Now given a glimpse into the Fort Knox vault housing the many untold truths of Olivia Benson, only to be cast out once more, the detective was grateful for even being granted that much.</p><p>Olivia pulled back first, and avoided eye contact skillfully, "This leaves the room and you'll be on desk duty for a month". The threat was grave but said with a joking and tearful smile. </p><p>"It won't." </p><p>"One last thing. I can't exactly go out there looking like a disheveled mess. Would you mind sneaking my purse from my office?"</p><p>"No problem, Lieu." </p><hr/><p>Amanda walked out of the bathroom, only to quickly find the squad huddled around Fin's desk. Weather it was because Fin was sitting and held up most of the conversation, or the memory of the other side of the squad room was too fresh, she wasn't sure.</p><p>Fin and Barba were subtle in their evidence gathering, closely watching the blonde for hints as she made her way to the office. Barba was unusually kept in the dark about the whole ordeal [at least for now] and yearned for just one detective to break rank and open up. None did.</p><p>Amanda reached the office doors and retrieved the purse, obviously not hers, and began her way back. But she paused, before giving the other detectives and ADA a look. Not questioning or angry, just a knowing look. </p><p>Carisi wasn't too concerned with subtlety, but still managed to confine his prodding to one word. Better to ask Amanda rather than their Lieutenant herself, who was rather notorious precinct-wide for brushing off any slightly sensitive question with the infamous words "I'm fine". Some even joked, Fin included, that those would be her last. </p><p>"Liv?"</p><p>Amanda just shook her head no before turning back towards the destination. She didn't know what it meant in words, neither did the squad, but everyone felt it and understood. </p><p>Making contact with the bathroom door, but not yet opening it, she wished one last time, instinctually angling her head upwards as she made her request to whatever gods that be. </p><p>
  <em>Please, even just once, allow Liv to say "I'm fine" and really mean it. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Aftermath: Part Two (Barba)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Although Barba wasn't present during the reveal, Carisi's concern over Olivia's perjury, discussed discretely in the breakroom, gives him all the information he needs, and leads to a private confrontation in her office. </p><p>Not an established relationship but both have feelings for one another, discussed internally at length.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone! </p><p>Just wondering, would you guys be more interested in:</p><p>1) 23 Dollar Baby: set in season 17, Olivia comforts a vic and reveals a dark secret about her childhood and how she made money for herself despite her mother's drinking habits. Discusses deeply traumatizing experiences, and shows the vic that those times don't have to define you.. AU, obviously. Deals with prostitution and underage (14). Kinda dark. </p><p>2) The Sky and I: set in season 18. Olivia struggles with contemplating suicide, and the squad is worried when Fin and Amanda find her on the roof, gun drawn. Would she have done it? Not so much to do with trauma and more with nostalgia of the good ole days and a collective sense of greif over all the people who left her... real sad stuff. I legitimately cried just writing out the plot points on my prompt master list. Like I cannot stress how emotionally straining this is gonna be, but still realllly excited for it. A lot of EO, but other ships as well. </p><p>3) For Better or For Worse, For Sickness and in Health: set in season 17. Liv gets a call, revealed she was listed as Elliot's only next of kin when he is involved in a car accident. Will she be able to forgive him? And how will they handle their rekindled tension? Especially when Fin finds her in his hospital bed, the squad truly sees how close the famous duo really are, and rumors fly like old tines. Heartbreak and nostalgia.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Aftermath Part Two: Barba</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>16th Precinct: Break Room</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>11:15 PM</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>(A/N: suuuper long intro, but eventually they do indeed talk later in the chapter. Sorry, but my affliction for rambling seems to be incurable.) </strong>
</p><p>The precinct may have been repopulated, the desks filled once more with the ambient sounds of shuffling paper, but silence ruled this domian. Although only a few people were actually witness to the ordeal in its entirety, the heavy weight of the suicide threat crushed morale like a steamroller on bubble wrap. Combined with the seemingly endless opportunities to catch up on paperwork (and never actually succeed), as well as the newfound understanding that now one from the main unit would be going in the field today until being cleared by a psych evaluations, tensions were high. </p><p>Especially for Rafael Barba. </p><p>Even in the break room that the trio and the ADA currently occupied, the unsaid words and concern were almost tangible in the air, one could almost grasp the concepts as if they were bubbles floating by. Their tight-lipped reaction towards the event, at least to outsiders, was comforting albeit mildly infuriating to the ADA. He wanted to know if his best friend was okay, but understood the need for the fortifications around their knowledge. </p><p>But he<em> needed</em> to know. After all, was she really <em>only</em> a best friend?</p><p>Of course, the usage of the word "only" implies that best friend wasn't good enough, which is blatantly not true. Anyone that could get this close to Barba, a feat previously not recognized as possible by even the man himself, should get a medal and hazard pay. But there was something. Something subconscious, something that one knew was there but couldn't be identified with any known vocabulary.</p><p>In this way their relationship was kind of like a Yankee Candle without its label, the brain apt enough to make the distinction but not able to properly recognize what it was. And of course, sorely missed when the flame died out. </p><p>Tucker and Benson being a couple had been a real punch in the gut, however, creating a vacuum and wrenching out the oxygen that fed the little inferno. Despite this, it was actually Tucker's relationship with the woman that was forcing Barba to begin to come to terms with his predicament. After all, the pure potency of his jealosy could not have been healthy by any means or measure.</p><p>Surely it wasn't merely lust, as he had thought originally. Although her not-so-well-hidden curves and subtle beauty was not lost on him, or others for that matter, it was rather Olivia's ability to break the rock exterior and actually access what lay inside the geode that was his personality. The many colors revealed to be inside, some even unknown to himself, enlightening the world in ways he thought law school had expelled completely. </p><p>Which is exactly why her well being had a direct correlation to his own. And also why he not only <em>needed</em> to know her state, but sure as hell was about to find out. </p><p>Let the games begin. </p><p>The first targets in this quest were obviously sitting beside him, tapping mindlessly on plastic tables with the vending machines humming softly. Once again, things were silent. After all, who knew what to say? And how much could they say without breaking her trust in them?</p><p>"Is she okay, at least?"</p><p><em>Wow</em>, he thought to himself immediately after the words fell off his lips, <em>real subtle on that one</em>. </p><p>Heads turned to Amanda, naturally, as she held the last interaction with their Lieutenant before the boss lady emerged from the bathroom and proceeded to retreated to the solitude of her office without so much as a single word. No one honestly could say they expected anything different, as Olivia Benson was known for the uncanny ability to hide from her own problems while collapsing inwardly and pretending things were "fine". This condition worsened tenfold with the strange circumstances surrounding Elliot's disappearance, her ability to keep emotions in check was admirable at times but destructive at others. She could fight a war on a thousand fronts for a stranger off the street, but never for herself. </p><p>The memories of the bathroom conversation kept replaying in the detective's head, before finally coming to the best answer possible. </p><p>"No."</p><p>The tone if said message implied that further inquiries were not welcome, but Barba ceased to care a while ago. </p><p>"Anything I can do?" </p><p>The two other men in the room visibly shifted, as if they asked the question themselves.</p><p>"Be there for her, we all know you and Fin have something special with her."</p><p>His heart fluttered for only an instant, but fluttered nonetheless. They noticed? Of course they noticed Fin too, but everyone knew that despite all the "baby girl" names (which threw some people off for quite a while), they were like siblings. What did they think the nature of Olivia's relationship with himself was? Perhaps that was an unfair expectation, however. He didn't even know himself. </p><p>"Oh and Barba?"</p><p>"Yes?"</p><p>"I'm not saying this will come out, because it never will - we have her back one hundred and ten percent - but in case... If it does for some reason, or maybe rumors close to the truth are flying around, don't let it reach the DA's office."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"They'll trip her up on multiple counts of perjury. Both trials. And you aren't going to let that happen." </p><p>The tone was borderline threatening, and under any other circumstances a witty response would sufice. Not this time, not when there were so many things to unravel.</p><p>Barba wasn't the only one trapped within the puzzle either, he just only had a few pieces while the others had half the jigsaw figured out. They all knew Amanda knew more then they did, anyway, and perhaps part of him hoped it would stay that way. Maybe he didn't want to know. To find out the wretched and heartbreaking details. The depravity alone was in an abnormally high dosage, even for SVU.</p><p>The case file was read by everyone involved in the search during her second disappearance, the full extent of torture used in the previous encounter was unknown to her fellow detectives until that moment. The smouldering wire hangers, sharpened fabric cutters, the forced consumption of vodka, and -what still haunted Fin in the occasional nightmare- the blowtorch. Not to mention the little games he played, Olivia being the contestant on a show that never seemed to win and was instead fully immersed in pain. </p><p><em>So that was the altered version</em>? The scars in the exam report spoke for themselves, but was there something missing? Amanda mentioned both trials, referring to Lewis's trial and Olivia's grand jury farce, meaning something more had occured that the stoic woman was too ashamed or too proud to reveal. Fin and Carisi knew what the secret to the second encounter was, Amelia had just exposed such information only a few hours prior, but were still in a hazed confusion. What had she covered up the first time? Only Amanda knew, and even then just mere tidbits, a glimpse into a vast unknown realm. </p><p>Fin spoke up, almost like he was thinking out loud, body language and tone not indicating any specific target to his question. </p><p>"Should I take her gun?"</p><p>The crushing weight of the implied concern, even the threat of such an action, was almost too much. She wouldn't...right? But then again that seems to be the reoccuring statement made at the funeral of cops that ate their gun. </p><p>"No I don't think so. She's a strong woman. But honeslty...", someone began, Barba wasn't even sure who, "if it weren't for Noah I'd go and get it myself right now."</p><p>Did others really think she was that damaged? Did he? </p><p>Surely she was uncommonly strong, a model for officers everywhere, and the epitome of women in power excelling in their positions. </p><p>It was time to leave, he decided. Why question her state in secret and in vague references when he had the opportunity to go and provide comfort himself. Even if he just sat there, silently in her office, it would be much much better than thinking about the possibility of <em>that. </em></p><p>As Barba rose, not one detective really noticed. The rabbit hole of intense contemplation had trapped them all, Barba deciding it was his turn for action. Soft, gentle, compassionate action. Still better than sitting idly. </p><hr/><p>He strode into the office with his usual swagger, but Olivia could tell from her desk that his heart just wasn't into it. The effort to pretend everything was normal, that nothing had changed, was truly appreciated. More than he would ever know. </p><p>Barba executed his simple plan by sitting down on one of the cushioned chairs, leaning back with a very relaxed posture, and just... existing. Olivia didn't need a worried friend or a improv therapist, and this knowledge is what separated him and Fin from the rest of the squad when it came to her. Just knowing that sometimes, most of the time actually, being the calm drinking buddy will go a long way in her book. Not threatening, but still available, never crowding but rather always within a comfortable radius that said of "I've got my share of problems but I don't mind listening to some of yours". And she had a lot, according to the one time he has seen her truly drunk. </p><p>While reaching over to pour his own glass of bourbon, which was an unusual sight as alcohol or other unprofessional items/practices were rarely around Liv for long (at work anyway), he thought back to that one night. When she jumped in the back of the cab with him (hell would freeze over before he let a beautiful drunk woman walk the streets alone), and she gave him her house key before promptly passing out on his shoulder. If sober, such proximity would have been unthinkable. He remembers the memory fondly, one of the few times she was not only willing to show a vulnerable side near him, but trusted enough to rely on him to deliver her home safely. Barba never did return the key. </p><p>Olivia, on the other hand, began to stress at his presence, if only due to the unusual circumstances and timing of the current encounter. She knew exactly what he was trying do to. </p><p>
  <em>Did they tell him? They wouldn't, right?</em>
</p><p>Appearing as if to read minds, while in reality reading her almost unnoticeable facial expression change, responded to the words unspoken. </p><p>"They didn't say anything."</p><p>"Good." </p><p>She didn't think they had. But still, the confirmation was nice.</p><p>"And I assure you, I know a lot less than you think I know."</p><p>"Somehow I doubt that. Lawyers always find a way", she said, rather teasingly. </p><p>"That we do."</p><p>"I am so-"</p><p>"You don't have to explain yourself to me. I won't, no one will, ever be able to understand what happened with <em>him" </em></p><p>The fact that he avoided his name like the plague was comforting, it was a small help in warding of the invasive and ill-timed flashbacks that made disturbingly frequent appearances. </p><p>"Thank you."</p><p>Barba watched, somewhat amused, as Liv twidled with her fingers in a mix of nervousness and awkwardness. He decided to change the mood, perhaps to something more positive. Admittedly that was a pretty low bar, but he had an idea. </p><p>"Would you perhaps join me for a celebratory dinner next Thursday?"</p><p>The question he posed came out of the blue, which was why her nodding of acceptance was met with a warm feeling in his stomach. The response, surely unintentionally husky but sexy nonetheless, elicited a genuine smile. </p><p>"And what exactly are we celebrating, Rafa?"</p><p>God he loved when she used that nickname. </p><p>"I'm sure I'll figure something out."</p><p>Was this flirting? Neither party knew.</p><p>"So whats the dress?"</p><p>He knew what she meant, as in where does it fall between casual and black tie, but it took almost all the remaining self control not to respond with <em>hopefully low-cut</em>. </p><p>"4 star."</p><p>"It's a date, then."</p><p>The misstep in speech was caught almost immediately, but correcting her mistake would be juvenile and immature. Besides, a small part of her wished this into truth a long time ago.</p><p>"It is." </p><p>He took one last swig from his drink, and got up to leave. Almost reaching the door, his hand on the handle, the impulsive descion to say something was overwhelming. </p><p>"If you need me, I'll be there."</p><p>"Same for you. My door is always open."</p><p>"I don't want to intru-"</p><p>"And even if it isn't... you have a key, don't you?"</p><p>She smiled, and for a second he might have needed a hospital as his heart warmed to unnatural levels and something inside him lept for joy. It wasn't a drunken mistake. It wasnt a fluke. She truly did trust him, and he truly trusted her. Wholeheartedly. </p><p>"Can I walk you out?"</p><p>And that he did, joining her in a lock step, joined at the hip as they advanced forward in relative peace. They finally reached her car, and Barba was hesitant to let her leave on her own. </p><p>"Goodnight, Liv."</p><p>"Goodnight, Rafa." </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Can you please comment which fic (listed under notes in the beginning of the chapter) would most interest you? I have a whoooooole bunch listed on a word doc, but those are my next choices.<br/>My last fic was relatively successful and would like to replicate that.<br/>Feel free to use the prompts yourself if you want.<br/>Please comment, thank you!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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